Mamageddon Part 2 of 4 - Mothership

USS Surefoot-A, Deck 2 Bridge:

Kami stared at the swirls of pink, purple and blue that made up the atmosphere of the gas giant directly below, a beautiful image now being eaten up by static on the viewscreen. “Is there a problem, Cadet?”

Stalac grumbled at his station. “The magnetic fields are unusually strong, Ma’am, even at this altitude; I can see why the Shermans have had problems sending ships into the atmosphere itself. We can still compensate, however- with your permission?”

“What do you intend to do?”

“Several years ago, the Enterprise-D successfully tested a program for metaphasic shielding, for work within the coronae of stars, allowing it to temporarily withstand the pressure, radiation and energy found there. It is energy intensive, and not normally employed, but we can divert power from the warp drive, we won’t need it while we’re here taking the readings, and won’t need it for very long.”

Kami looked to C’Rash, who shrugged and offered, “Don’t ask me, Captain, Ma’am, I’m just here because this seat smells like T’Varik.”

“Hmph.” She turned to the Engineering station. “Ms Emoto?”

The young woman studied some readings she called up at her station. “I remember reading about the Enterprise modifications, Ma’am. It’s… doable. Chief Grev will complain, though.”

Kami smirked. “If he didn’t complain, we wouldn’t know it was him. Okay, Cadets, get it done.”

As the cadets proceeded, Kami looked to C’Rash again, whispering, “You have anything to add?”

The black-furred female leaned back in her chair and pretended to peruse her PADD. “Shush, I’ve reached Level 9 on this Fizzbin game.”

“You know, if you’re going to be this helpful, maybe I should get my son to take your place as my Number One?”

Then both female reacted from the alert signal from the Ops station, turning and rising to see Zir move over the controls, the expression on her face sobering. “We’re getting a Priority Distress Signal! The Fleet’s under attack!”

Kami’s heart skipped, but she still announced, “Red Alert!” As the klaxon sounded in the background and the red strip running along the perimeter of the Bridge ceiling came to life, she turned to each station in turn. “Peter, alert the Medical crew to ready all three Sickbays and call all off-duty staff to their medical posts! Urad, arm phasers and torpedoes! Tori, get the warp power up to Maximum, we’ll need it! Astrid, plot a course back to the Fleet!”

As the cadets complied, and C’Rash joined Zir at Ops to assess the situation, she thought of Esek, on the Triton, instead of here where he belonged. In command, instead of her… “Is it the Klingons?”

The other Caitian was frowning in confusion and alarm. “It doesn’t appear to be the Klingons attacking! It’s some unknown force… hundreds of small ships moving in a huge transwarp current they’re somehow generating around themselves. They’re disabling our ships, not destroying them… the Fleet’s weapons are having no effect!”

What were they going to do? Kami thought. She was an acting Captain, and they were on a skeleton crew, with half of those onboard just cadets, not yet into their final year! They were in over their heads here!

And yet, as she watched and listened, she saw and heard the composure, the professionalism, of these young people, lacking a twentieth of her experience in Starfleet, performing their duties with confidence.

They… humbled her.

If they could step up to the challenge, so could she. “Report.”

C’Rash never looked away from her screens as she continued. “These things are moving in ever-changing formations, like schools of fish or swarms of blackwings. They’re overloading the Fleet’s shields, dampening power fields, scanning, transporting-” She frowned. “Seven Hells- they’re reporting children being taken from the ships! Just children!” Now she looked up. “And they’re coming this way! At transwarp speeds, they’ll be here in seconds!”

Kami clutched her belly, her thoughts on Misha in the Crèche in the centre of their ship as she turned and ordered, “Evasive manoeuvres! Get us away from them!”

Astrid never answered, but the Surefoot swooped up, forcing Kami to take her seat again to keep from falling over as the ship banked sharply again. Now Kami’s stomach twisted into knots, as C’Rash ordered behind her, “Aft view!”

The chaotic starfield on the viewscreen changed to something different, but no less alarming-looking: swirls of tiny dots on fast approach, looking like a galaxy of stars had stopped their aeons-long circle dance around each other to attack them. Kami stared in horror. “Aft phasers- torpedoes-”

“I wouldn’t recommend it, Captain,” C’Rash responded. “The Fleet tried it, with limited effect. Better save the power for shields and escape-”

“Understood.” They were getting closer. Mother’s Cubs… Cubs- She hit her intercom on the arm of her chair. “Sickbay! We’re being pursued by alien vessels who are abducting children from Starfleet ships! Get someone in to protect Misha!”

*

In Sickbay, Eydiir, near Masterson, the pair of them holding onto a biobed to counter the evasive manoeuvres, heard the message from the Bridge, and launched herself forward towards the Crèche. She had known Misha’s parents since her arrival on the previous Surefoot. She owed them everything.

She had killed for them. The least she could do is protect their cub.

*

On the Bridge, they watched helplessly as the Wave swept over them, immediately attacking the shields, countering the ship’s attempts to change frequencies, to stay ahead of them.

Kami looked up, helpless to do or say anything as-

“We’ve lost shields!”

A sickly emerald green energy passed through the walls.

*

Eydiir entered the Crèche, at first not seeing Misha- until she heard him whimpering under his workstation. She moved towards him.

The green energy reached him first, enveloping him.

And taking him.

*

The energy reached the Bridge, focusing on Kami in the centre.

Or more specifically, her belly. And the life she carried within.

Kami howled in pain, and she tried to rise and escape the beams, but they followed as she collapsed to her knees. Seven Hells, it was like being torn apart, like those horror stories of early transporter accidents- no, no, you’re not taking my daughter you bastards stop it stop it STOP IT PLEASE YOU’RE HURTING HER-

And then, abruptly, it ended, the green energy vanishing. C’Rash, Zir and Peter surrounding her, the last passing a medical tricorder from the Bridge’s emergency medical pack. “Hold still, Ma’am-”

Kami’s breath was almost as rapid as her pulse, but she managed a breathless, “Is she- is she- is she-”

“Fine,” he answered, though he sounded hesitant. “But I think it best to get you to Sickbay though for a thorough check-”

She swallowed, but as her hands moved over her stomach, feeling Sreen kicking inside in protest, her mind was already moving onto, “What- What happened- why did they stop?”

“I-” The sound came from Tori Emoto at Engineering, looking stunned, even sheepish as she elaborated. “Ma’am, I think that was me. When the standard shields failed, I had the metaphasic modifications ready, so I raised them. I thought- I thought we had nothing to lose-”

“You did good, Cadet,” C’Rash told her, with relief. “Real good.”

Suddenly Eydiir’s voice filled the air. “Bridge! It’s Misha! They took Misha!”

The second of reprieve that she had been spared the loss of Sreen now passed in Kami, as she stood up, her eyes moving to the viewscreen, where the Wave had now left them behind, their shape now narrowing and curving in one direction, like particles in a liquid swirling towards a drain.

Misha… my cub…

They had to head back to Esek- to get together with the Fleet-

No. Something in her told her that if they didn’t pursue them now, they would lose them… and never see Misha or the other children again. “Follow them!”

“What?” C’Rash asked, dumbfounded. “We have to-”

“FOLLOW THEM! NOW!”

They moved to comply, but Kami never took his eyes off of the retreating ships. No. No, you are not taking my cub away. You’re not taking any of the children away… “Alert the Fleet, update them, inform them we’re in pursuit! Tactical, Science, analyse the ships, find some weakness we can use! Engineering, divert all available power to the engines!

Helm… don’t you dare lose them.”

Astrid never took her eyes off of the screen, but suppressed a shudder at the raw emotion behind her Captain’s order to her, and summoned the manual steering column from her station. “Everyone take your seats.”

Kami complied, as Stalac reported, “The ships are moving into a new formation; I’m detecting verteron particles- a wormhole! They’re opening a wormhole! If they enter and it closes before we catch up-”

“HELM!” Kami roared.

Astrid pushed them forward, the engines whining in protest as they reached Maximum Warp… and exceeded it. Alarms sounded, but were quickly extinguished by Tori. The ship was shaking now, frighteningly.

Then they saw it, beyond the tight formation of Wave ships: a swirl of colours, like some amusement park ride. They were still shaking. But they were still in pursuit.

“Should we fire on them, Ma’am?” Urad asked. “Now that we’re within range? To slow them down?”

“No, Mr Kaldron,” C’Rash responded. “They’re carrying hostages… or the transporter patterns of hostages.”

Kami stared – and frowned. “Are they… are they aware that we’re with them?”

No one responded at first, but C’Rash moved back to Tactical, examining the readings. “Maybe… not. They could just be too focused on maintaining the wormhole to bother with us. Maybe they’re fully automated vehicles, and won’t bother us unless we attack them? Like the reports about the Borg drones not taking notice of people in their midst until they’re under threat?”

“Do we know in which direction we’re headed? Or how far away we’ll be when we get out?”

“Not yet, Ma’am.”

Kami listened, still in disbelief at her own actions. She’d taken them into the literal Unknown, with no guarantee as to what they would find when they arrived, or even if they would ever get back. What would they do? What would-

Don’t think too far ahead, Esek told her after another training simulation. Focus on the immediate goals, because crises can change direction a hundred times and scupper whatever long-range plans you might make. “Whenever and wherever we do emerge, I don’t want to draw their attention. Prepare to put us in Reduced Power Mode.”

She felt the eyes on her, as C’Rash voiced their feelings. “Reduced Power Mode? If they decide to attack us, we’ll be vulnerable with our weapons and engines off-line. They’d finish us off in seconds.”

Kami almost agreed with her niece. But something else made her reply, “And if we were fully armed and powered, do you think we’ll do much better than the entire Thirteenth Fleet did? There’s an old Caitian saying: ‘Prowl now-’”

“-‘Pounce later’,” C’Rash finished, looking to Zir. “Prepare for Reduced Power Mode. As Captain Hrelle ordered.”

Zir nodded. “Preparing Reduced Power Mode, alerting all stations to comply.”

“Preparing to shift to Manoeuvring thrusters only,” Astrid offered.

“Tightening power signature to Minimum,” Tori added.

“Switching to passive scans only,” Stalac contributed.

“Powering down weapons and shields,” Urad concluded. “Relying on ablative armour, and charm.”

Kami shot him a look. And a smirk. Despite her continued heightened anxiety, she couldn’t help but say, “I’m proud of all of you. I know we’re going to get the children back, and get home.”

“Yes, Captain,” C’Rash agreed. “We will.”

*

USS Triton, Deck 1, Command Centre:

Hrelle kept glancing at the door to Admiral Tattok’s Ready Room, where the Roylan had entered with his son minutes before, leaving his senior officers to continue to try and sort through the chaos left behind in the wake of the Wave.

The Caitian didn’t need his hearing to know what was going on in there: from the moment Weynik learned that Naida had been taken, he wanted to return to the Ajax and go in pursuit.

Hrelle knew exactly how he felt, more than anyone else onboard. But instead he focused on helping the Fleet to get back online, to get the Captains and First Officers back to their ships so they could catch up and-

And what? The Triton’s Tactical and Engineering specialists were still analysing the tiny vessels, their weapons and tactics. They needed to go in well-armed with knowledge, if nothing else.

Hrelle sat and stared at the starfield where the Surefoot had vanished, along with the Wave ships. A final message from them indicated they had survived the attack, but Misha had been abducted, and Kami ordered that they stay in pursuit so as not to lose them.

Hrelle grunted to himself. That was exactly what he would have done under the circumstances.

Seven Hells, Wife of Mine. I'm sorry. Sorry I wasn't there for you, and for our cub. We were only supposed to be apart for six hours!

He leaned back, eyes still in the starfield. No. No, he couldn't afford to wallow in shock, and began calling up data, an idea popping into his head. “Sasha? T’Varik?”

The women were nearby, speaking with several of the Triton senior officers, but now approached him. His daughter let the anxiety show on her face. “Anything, Dad?”

“Forty-seven children have been taken from nine ships in the Fleet. The oldest was twelve, the youngest… nine days. Race doesn’t appear to be a factor: they’re Terran, Vulcan, Bolian, Andorian, Trill, Roylan… Caitian.”

Sasha came up to him, touched his shoulder. “They’ll be okay, Dad-”

“Want something to keep you two busy until we get going?”

“A sound suggestion, Sir,” T’Varik noted, before Sasha could respond.

He blinked. “Isn’t this supposed to be the point where you tell me that as a Vulcan, you have no need to be distracted from your emotions?”

“It would be, Captain... if it were true. What do you require of us?”

He told them. They acknowledged and went on their way to find spare workstations, while he returned to his own study, using all of the techniques his wife had taught him to stay focused, to do what he could to save his family-

A voice raised in anger in the group behind them drew his attention, and Hrelle rose to his feet to see Captain Ed Haney of the Minotaur and several other Captains behind him. “Why are we just standing here? We should be going after the ones responsible for taking our children!”

As others behind him made sounds of agreement, Joe Jacobs, former Admiral and current civilian expert on Klingons, stepped up, his age not detracting from his strength of personality, or the respect his long and distinguished career had earned him. “We are not just ‘standing here’, Captain. We are collating and analysing our data to identify the abductors and-”

The younger, pale-skinned, fair-haired human was turning pinker. “Sir, we already know who’s responsible, and where!” He pointed towards the viewscreen. “The Klingons! They came from their direction!”

“The Klingons do not possess the ships and technology we saw being employed today, Captain.”

“Then they have new allies! And they’ve kidnapped our children to use as bargaining chips against us!”

Hrelle frowned; he had known Haney since he served under Hrelle years ago on the Furyk – and he had a mouth on him back then, too. And since this War started, their relationship had strained further under Haney’s misapprehension that Hrelle’s impartial treatment of wounded Klingon POWs somehow made Hrelle a Klingon sympathiser. The Caitian approached him. “That makes no sense, Ed. Allies with that power to overwhelm us could just lob a sackful of torpedoes at us and destroy us. Why take hostages?”

Haney glared at him now. “We can ask the Klingons after we make them pay for what they’ve done!”

Hrelle felt his muscles tighten from the other Captain’s rising aggression. “Klingons wouldn’t take children as prisoners, Ed. There’s no honour in that for them.”

“Oh, well, you know your friends better than the rest of us, don’t you, Hrelle?”

“Hey!” Jacobs snapped. “That’s enough of that!”

But Haney ignored him, stepping up to Hrelle, looking scarlet now, finger raised towards Hrelle’s muzzle. “I have four crew on the Minotaur whose children have been snatched from them! Maybe that doesn’t matter to a Klingon Lover like you but-”

Hrelle stepped closer as well and roared in the man’s face, claws bared, arms stretched out, eyes red.

The room went silent. Haney dropped his hand and stepped back, his aggression immediately eclipsed with fear, as his supporters had drawn back as well.

“Captain Hrelle,” Tattok, having just returned to the room with Weynik, spoke up now, breaking the silence. “Stand down. Immediately.”

For a moment, Hrelle couldn’t get his legs to work – until he felt Weynik’s hand on his forearm, silently urging him to follow the Admiral’s orders.

Then the room’s attention focused fully on Tattok, who looked at Haney angrily. “Mister Haney, clearly you’ve forgotten that Captain Hrelle’s son was taken as well, and his wife and ship have gone alone in pursuit. I am aware that we are all angry and anxious about what has happened – but we will not get our children back by fighting amongst ourselves!

A task force of six ships will be leaving in the next fifteen minutes to pursue the abductors: the Ajax, the Thunderbolt, the Oregon, the Revere, the Lynx and the Wasp.”

Haney raised his chin. “Admiral, request permission for the Minotaur to join-”

“Denied. Captain Hrelle will be in overall command of the task force, and I wouldn’t want you to be saddled with having to take orders from a Klingon Lover. Dismissed.” As Haney and the others began to reluctantly disperse, Tattok turned to Hrelle. “Do you need time to compose yourself, Captain?”

Hrelle smelled Sasha and T’Varik approach, and he sheathed his claws and relaxed his posture. “No, Admiral.”

“Then stand by here, with my son.”

As the older Roylan walked away, Hrelle looked to Weynik, both of them simultaneously asking each other, “Are you okay?”

Both of them simultaneously responding, “Yeah, you?”

Both of them then simultaneously adding, “Stop that.”

Then both of them went silent waiting for the other to continue the conversation.

Finally Hrelle declared, “We’re getting them back, Brother. I promise.”

Weynik looked up at him, exclaiming, “How can you stay so calm? Your wife, your son, your ship-”

Hrelle looked back. “Did you not see me a few minutes ago?” He breathed out. “I’ve had years of practice of being separated from my loved ones, and not being able to do anything about it. I know what I can do, and what I can’t do.”

Weynik grunted, his hands twisted into fists. “Naida… there is so much I have to do with her...things to tell her… like Fala.”

Hrelle recognised the name: Weynik’s wife, killed in a shuttle accident years ago. She wasn’t Naida’s biological mother – Weynik produced her parthenogenetically, a reaction to following a period of psychological stress – but she certainly would have been a mother to the cub. “You never told Naida about her?”

“No. It was… too painful. I figured… later, we could talk. Later.”

His tone told Hrelle exactly what he thought of that now. He reached out and placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder, before straightening up at the approach of T’Varik and Sasha. “Well? Have you found anything?”

Sasha was silent, studying her father, obviously having seen the confrontation with Haney, leaving T’Varik to proceed. “As you suspected, this is not the first recorded incident involving a collection of small ships appearing, abducting children and disappearing.”

“What?” Weynik exclaimed. “Why haven’t we heard about this?”

“Because of the time factor, Captain. On Stardate 25484.36, a colony in the Mazar system was attacked by a large number of ships of unknown origin, originally believed to be Tholians; there were many bodies, but no children’s bodies were found. On Stardate 10710.04, the government on Zayra IV reported a passenger liner was attacked by a large number of unknown forces, and only the children onboard were taken, never seen again. On Stardate 7907.6, Captain Joel Randolph of the USS Yorktown investigated claims by the government on Garadius IV that Romulans had attacked outposts with a swarm of unknown small ships and had taken children. Captain Randolph found no evidence of Romulan involvement… but no trace of the actual perpetrators.”

“There were other, sketchier reports,” Sasha contributed. “Taking those into account, the incidents are spread out over half the Alpha Quadrant, but all at 36-year intervals.”

“Bloody Hemra,” Weynik cursed. “7907.6? That goes back to Kirk’s day! This has been going on for a hundred years?”

Sasha and T’Varik exchanged glances.

“What?” Hrelle prompted.

His daughter’s face reddened. “On a hunch, I went past the historical databases and checked out the older, non-Federation sources: the Metron Consortium, the First Federation, the Kalandan and the Arret Archives.

There are reports of these raids potentially occurring for... thousands of years...”

*

Masterson passed the sensor wand over Kami, checking its readings on the tricorder in his other hand. “I’m not seeing any problems with either you or the baby… though I’d sooner run these tests in Sickbay. I don’t usually make house calls.”

Kami adjusted her position in the chair. “A Captain doesn’t leave her Bridge. Get used to it if you’re going to be serving on my ship, Mister.” She hoped her light-hearted response sounded genuine; she was relieved by his confirmation that was there was nothing wrong with Sreen. Now she could focus on-

“Captain,” Astrid said from the Helm. “The alien vessels are breaking formation; we’re coming out of the wormhole!”

“Get back to Sickbay,” Kami ordered Masterson without looking at him. “All hands, ready for Reduced Power Mode! Helm: I-” Then Kami stopped herself, only now realising that Alpha Squad, cadets who were certainly gifted and willing but were still cadets, were still on duty, and she hadn’t even thought of finding others in the skeleton crew who might have been more experienced. She had asked so much of them so far, and was going to ask for more.

Was that wrong?

Her instincts said No. And Esek told her to trust her instincts.

Astrid was looking behind her at Kami, then at the viewscreen, and back again. “Ma’am?”

Kami steeled herself. “When we leave the wormhole, drop us away from the alien ships without drawing attention to ourselves. We don’t know what we’ll be facing, but-”

“Understood, Captain.” Astrid faced forward again, opening her own shipwide channel. “All hands: prepare for Emergency Manoeuvres.”

Kami leaned back and gripped the arms of her chair, C’Rash beside her, both watching as the alien vessels’ formation unravelled, and they, and the Surefoot, dropped out of the wormhole, displaying a dark and murky starscape, like the inside of a nebula-

-And a field of spinning, colliding debris ahead of them.

Kami was about to call out, when Astrid banked the ship in a sharp, downward declension portside, spinning madly and then banking in another direction, and then again, as if colliding with the debris around them. At first she wondered if the young Helmsman was panicking, until she realised that Astrid’s moves were deliberate, to make them appear like part of the flotsam and jetsam out here.

Kami still felt sickened, but was determined to hold it in, when the manoeuvres and speed ebbed, settling into a wider, more leisurely pattern.

“Where are we?” she finally asked.

“I’m checking for Galactic beacons, navigational signals,” Astrid answered. “There’s… nothing. Nothing at all. We’re… nowhere.”

“There’s no such thing as Nowhere,” Stalac corrected, turning in place to face Kami. “We’re in a pocket of subspace, out of phase with our own normal space.”

She nodded, aware of the basics behind subspace phenomena but nothing more, and looked ahead again. “Have they detected us?”

“I’d say not,” C’Rash responded. “They all pouring into a large structure, made of the same alloy as themselves.”

“Onscreen.”

The murky view changed, slightly, producing a… well, a view that wasn’t much better: a black rectangular object as large as the Spacedock around Earth. It lacked nacelles or other appendages, and possessed no lights or windows that she could see. “Can you identify who made it?”

“There’s nothing like it in our databases, Captain,” Zir answered. “But the accumulated baryon decay on its hull suggests it’s at least two thousand years old.”

“And it’s still functioning after all this time?” Peter exclaimed.

“More than that,” Stalac replied. “It’s producing large amounts of power from an unknown source, presumably to stabilise this subspace pocket; without that power, this place would quickly collapse in on itself, crushing everything within.”

“And if what I’m reading about this type of subspace phenomenon is correct, Ma’am,” Tori spoke up. “We’ll need their technology to open up the wormhole to get us back to our own space.”

Kami’s hackles rose. As if the situation hadn’t put her on edge enough… “Can you scan for the children?”

“Already on it,” C’Rash confirmed. A sound from her made Kami turn and look up, as the younger Caitian reported, “The scans are not precise – this space, and our Reduced Power Mode, are limiting their effectiveness – but I’m detecting between forty and eighty… don’t know how many children were in the Fleet altogether...” She looked up, confused. “No more. That ship could hold thousands. But it’s empty. Can it be fully automated?”

“Or it’s like us, on a skeleton crew,” Kami opined. “Can we just lock onto those lifesigns and beam them all onboard?”

“Not safely, under current conditions.”

“We could beam over with pattern enhancers,” Zir suggested. “Locate the hostages, free them, have a fixed point set up to beam them back here.”

“There’s still the matter of our returning home.” C’Rash reminded them.

And then Kami felt the attention focused on her – and she finally understood what Esek had said once, about The Gaze: You’ll feel the eyes on you from all directions, the hopeful, the doubtful, the fearful. All looking to you to make the next command, the next move, the thing that will pull your asses out of the fire and get them home in time for supper. But whatever command, whatever move you make, make it sound confident.

Kami rose to her feet, still staring at the enemy ship. “Two Away Teams are going over together. The first team will focus on finding and freeing the children, setting up a pattern enhancer station and get them back over here. The second team will focus on accessing the control systems on that ship, working out a means of opening another wormhole back to our space… and if possible, disabling their systems and preventing them from doing this again. If this ship is mostly automated, that could work to our advantage.” She looked to Zir. “Call Chief Grev to the Bridge, he’ll take command.”

“Excuse me?” C’Rash said. “What do you think you’ll be doing?”

Kami looked at her, expecting this reaction. “You’ll lead the second team, providing security for the Engineering and Science members. I’ll lead the first, we’ll find the children and-”

“The Seven Hells you will!” The younger Caitian strode down from her preferred station to confront Kami in the centre of the Bridge. “You’re not going anywhere over there!”

Kami’s hackles rose, as she was aware of the cadets around them discernibly trying not to be felt as a presence to the disagreement. She almost ordered C’Rash to continue this argument in the Ready Room – but her better judgement told her to keep it here, out in the open. If the cadets were here to learn about all things Starfleet, they had to learn that this was part of it too. “I’m not some delicate little flower, Lieutenant, I can track my son wherever they’re keeping him-”

“So can I! And so can anyone with a tricorder! Even discounting the fact that you’ve got a Cub in the Cave, and the fact that these bastards tried to literally steal her from your womb, you’re the Captain! Your place is here!”

“Oh? Is that what you tell my husband every time he throws himself into danger?”

“No – because as Chief of Security it’s not my place to do so, it’s T’Varik’s.”

“And we all know how well that works out, each and every time he’s ignored her, don’t we?”

C’Rash drew closer, her voice dropping, becoming more measured, sympathetic but no less resolute. “She doesn’t like him going off anymore than I do with you. But she also knows that Uncle Esek is a survivor, with over thirty years’ experience in getting himself in – and out of – trouble.

Something you don’t have.”

Even as the younger woman spoke, Kami’s maternal desire to get over and find her son and the other children ebbed, at least enough to keep under a certain amount of control. She breathed in. “What are your recommendations for the Away Teams, Lieutenant?”

*

Admiral Tattok looked impatient. Hrelle couldn’t blame him, having stopped his vital work to listen to- “Fairy tales?”

“Fables, Admiral.” T’Varik replied calmly. “Many worlds throughout the Alpha Quadrant have produced ostensible myths and legends regarding supernatural individuals and creatures who appear from nowhere and abduct children: Rigel has the Tostera and the Yrn, the Klingons have the Thirsk, Earth has numerous legends such as the Baba Yaga, the Lamia, the Slendermen-”

“And they are all meant to be inspired by the same raiders who attacked us today?”

“We haven’t had the time to verify every potential source, Admiral,” Hrelle admitted. “And it doesn’t really matter. What matters is the account we found in the archives of the First Federation; they may only be a shadow of their former glory these days, but back in the day, they were one of the major powers in the Quadrant.

One account in their records involved a race known as the Striga: spider-like humanoids located in the Hromi Cluster, who employed transwarp drive and subspace corridors to travel through much of the Quadrant, to hide in subspace pockets and raid other ships and colonies for children.”

“Why?”

Hrelle paused, leaving T’Varik to answer. “The Striga possessed a ruling aristocracy of sorts, known as the Grand Mothers, who had developed a means of achieving immortality through the... absorption of the bioenergy, the... lifeforce, the spirits... of children at regular intervals.

The Striga people worshipped them, willingly gave up their children to feed them, though ultimately at the cost of their race’s own long-term survival. So they had ventured out to take children from other worlds: Earth, Orion, Andor, Qo’noS.

At least, until about 1,200 years ago, when the Striga attacked a First Federation world and took hundreds of their children… and the First Federation responded by sending a fleet of their massive worldships to the Striga homeworld… and blasted it to rubble.”

“The Federation Archaeological Database confirms the existence of the ruins of a formerly-inhabited planet in the Hromi Cluster,” Sasha added. “That corresponds to the reported location of the Striga homeworld.”

“But it’s possible that some of the so-called Grand Mothers escaped, and have survived in some subspace pocket all this time,” Hrelle concluded. “And have been responsible for the reports of child abductions since then.”

“And how does this help us find our missing children?” Tattok wound up.

“The subspace connection is one we can focus upon,” T’Varik replied. “Rather than waste time searching normal space, which has proved unsuccessful in previous incidents. There is a Doctor Alicia Redd currently assigned to the James Fenimore Cooper. She is a renowned expert in Subspace Sciences and-”

The Red Alert klaxon sounded, driving the officers to the Bridge, bearing witness to pandemonium, Tattok immediately cutting through it. “What’s happening?”

His first officer rose from the chair. “Admiral! The Klingons have launched an offensive towards Sherman’s Planet!”

Tattok looked up at the tactical display. “How many vessels?”

“All of them, Sir! Forty seven! They’ve recalled their scouts from the Outer Rim! They’ll be here within the hour!”

Tattok straightened up. “Alert the Fleet! Defence Pattern Alpha-3! Recall our own scouts, inform the authorities on Sherman to put their people on Invasion Alert, and notify Starfleet Command!”

Hrelle looked up as well at the display, seeing the many red triangles representing the Klingon Birds of Prey, the battle cruisers, dreadnoughts and carriers, all led by their equivalent to Tattok, General Garrajh on the IKS Chukon. Hrelle’s stomach plummeted, knowing how this will change things.

Tattok turned back to them to confirm Hrelle’s worst fears. “They may or may not have been allies of the Striga, but they’re obviously aware of what’s happened to us, and are taking advantage to finally make their move. I’m sorry Weynik, Captain Hrelle, the pursuit of the abductors must be postponed for now.”

“Admiral-” Hrelle started.

“Dad, no!” Weynik protested. “We can’t let them get away! Naida-”

“We need every ship was have here. There are five million lives on the planet who are counting on us.”

“Admiral,” Hrelle repeated, recapturing his attention. “You can spare at least a runabout, something to let us continue the search, before it grows cold-”

“I also need every Starfleet member here too, Captain. With the Surefoot missing, we’re down one valuable ambulance vessel; I’ll need you here as my Strategic Operations Officer, with Cmdr T’Varik assisting you. Weynik, return to the Ajax with Lt Hrelle.” He paused and resolved. “You can go now.”

But his son stood his ground. “You expect me to forget my daughter-”

“I don’t expect the impossible, son. I expect you to do your duty… or stand down, and I’ll put someone else in command.”

Weynik looked ready to argue further, until Hrelle said, “Go, Brother. We’ll spank the Klingons and be after our families before you know it.”

The Roylan stiffened, discernibly forcing himself to turn and depart.

Sasha drew up and hugged her father, before pulling back. “They’ll be fine, Dad. I’m sure of it.”

“Me, too,” he lied.

Hrelle watched them depart, as Tattok looked to T’Varik. “Report to the Bridge, Commander.”

The Vulcan breathed in, nodded and left as well.

Hrelle turned back to Tattok, who obviously saw the expression on the Caitian’s face. “Esek, I am well aware that the fates of my granddaughter, and the other children, and your family and your ship are uncertain.

More certain is the fate of millions of Federation citizens on Sherman’s Planet.” He lowered his voice. “Starfleet Intelligence indicates that General Garrajh has received orders from Chancellor Gowron: if they can’t claim Sherman’s Planet, they are to launch biogenic weapons into its atmosphere. In Gowron’s mind, if they can’t have the planet, neither can we.”

The idea sent a chill running through Hrelle. The Klingons were combative, aggressive, yes, but he always believed that they were honourable, and would never stoop to using weapons of mass destruction against civilians. “Five million people… we could never evacuate even a small fraction of them in time… I can’t believe Garrajh would carry out such orders-”

“Nor can I… but I can’t ignore the possibility that I could be wrong.” Tattok paused, and finished with, “Help me finish this battle as quickly as possible, so we can get back to finding our children.”

Hrelle wanted to keep on arguing, even though inwardly, he had already agreed with the man.

He nodded soberly. “Let’s get to work.”

*

The Security team who first beamed into the junction on the Mothership had their phasers drawn already, but now reached for their palm torches, as they found themselves in near-total darkness.

C’Rash didn’t need hers; her Caitian vision extended into the infrared spectrum, with her nose and ears filling in the proverbial blanks. The air was cool and thin and filled with industrialised scents. But at least it was breathable, and the gravity was on the lighter side.

The place reminded her of recordings of the interior of a Borg Cube. She suppressed that thought with a shudder. “Alpha Sweep: Mr Kaldron, you’re with me.” She pointed down various corridors. “Ensign Gorman, you and Rei-Taan, that way. Ensign Thykrill, you and Ree-Taan, that way.”

The young Miradorn male Rei-Taan looked to his twin. “If you get lost, cry quietly.”

His equally burly-looking sister Ree-Taan sneered, lifting her bulbous, bisected head. “You’re the one who keeps a box of tissues in your bunk.”

“I told you, I get the sniffles in bed!”

“All you’re getting in bed is a strong right hand, Snakecharmer.”

“Shut up, both of you,” C’Rash hissed. “And get moving.” Damn Miradorns were always quarrelsome, and their twins seemed worse – but they were strong and fast, and their telepathic links could prove useful. She held up her tricorder and continued scanning ahead. “The lifeforms are ahead, two hundred metres away. There’s also… additional movements. Mechanical in nature. Servos, probably, drones, running this place.”

“Ma’am,” Kaldron asked quietly. “Why would these fiends take our children?”

“I don’t know, Cadet. And frankly I don’t care, either. I just want to get them back and get out of here.” She half-glanced at him. “Are you scared?”

“Me, Ma’am?” He said nothing further, until she looked at him, when he admitted, “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good,” she grunted. “Honest and smart. You’re on your first Away Mission, on an unknown alien vessel with definite hostile intentions. If you said you weren’t at least a little scared, I’d reconsider taking you out again. Come on, let’s get back.”

They returned to the juncture, to see Rei-Taan stride up to his sister and snarl, “I’m telling Mother on you! Those thoughts you sent me-”

Ree-Taan chuckled. “I regret nothing, Nanoknob.”

“Shut up, both of you, or you’ll be scouring the Shuttlebay deck with microbrushes!” C’Rash looked to Thykrill and Gorman. “Report, Ensigns!”

Gorman lifted his chin, his pale, ginger-haired head looking redder than usual as he nodded down the corridor he had come from. “Lieutenant, that leads to a large interior shuttlebay-like facility. Hundreds of those ships that attacked us are parked in there, being moved around, stripped, repaired, refuelled. All automated; some large multi-legged drones are scittering about, like insects.”

C’Rash nodded, looking to Thykrill. “Ensign?”

The young Andorian female’s antennae turned like eyestalks towards her superior officer. “That way leads to some sort of control and access facility. There are stations for humanoids, but they don’t appear to have been employed for… a long time.”

C’Rash nodded again, and touched her combadge. “Surefoot: beam over the others, same coordinates.” She looked to her team. “Clear the space, remember our Horta friend is coming.”

The team drew back from the centre of the juncture, as transporter columns brought into existence six figures, five of them carrying equipment, the sixth with an Engineering tricorder and phaser box mounted to bolts on the side of his fibrous rocky hide.

C’Rash looked them over once, before focusing on the Tellarite Chief Engineer. “Mr Grev: you, Ensign Yeager, Mr Stalac and Ms Emoto will follow Ms Thykrill and Ree-Taan to what looks like a power and control facility. Ms Eydiir, you and Mr Gentry will follow us to where we believe the children are being held. Set up the pattern enhancers here in this juncture, it’s a good central spot for both teams.” She glanced around, fully expecting whomever was running this place to spring out at them.

The enhancer posts were established in seconds, leaving C’Rash to contact the Surefoot again. “Confirm you’re detecting the Safe Transport Zone.”

Kami’s voice responded. “We’re detecting it, Lieutenant. Any sign of the children yet?”

“Not visually, but my tricorder, nose and ears are picking up something. Stand by.”

“What else am I going to do? Surefoot out.”

C’Rash grunted. She had to admit to herself that her earlier fears about her aunt being able to cope under such crisis conditions had abated somewhat. “Let’s go.”

Part 3 of 4: The Mother of All Battles